


The Broken Side of the Mirror

by captainofbrooklyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Bespin, Gen, In this fic "Vader" is actually luke, Movie: Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, he was kidnapped by palps as a baby, role reversal of bespin, the luke & han friendship is just mentioned but its important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainofbrooklyn/pseuds/captainofbrooklyn
Summary: Darth Vader goes to Bespin to rescue Han Solo. However, he is confronted by the Jedi who murdered his father, Anakin Skywalker.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Comments: 58
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guys im cranking out so many sw fics its crazy. But I love the Luke & Anakin/Vader relationship so what can I say? These stories are just a ton of fun for me to write. Anyways, hope anyone who reads this enjoys! Leave ur comments down below! Feel free to leave criticism as it'll help me improve my writing. 
> 
> Just to make sure it's clear, "Darth Vader" in this fic is Luke, who was kidnapped as a baby. Idk where Leia is, but I wrote this fic with the idea that Padme was dead. However, you can fill in the gaps however u like! 
> 
> Stay safe everyone!
> 
> Trigger warnings: nothing besides implications that Luke was abused by Palpatine. Big shock right there.

“You are not a Sith, Vader,” Anakin Skywalker said, surrounded by smoke. “No matter how hard you try.” 

He glared at the Jedi General. They were in some dark chamber on Cloud City where Vader knew the Rebels were keeping Captain Solo. He’d heard the man’s cries for help in the Force, and despite the Emperor’s anger, knew he had to answer it. He’d met the smuggler right before the Rebels blew up the Death Star, and Solo had been with him through the Emperor’s various punishments and missions. Solo had done favors for him and he was only paying his debt. Skywalker knew. That’s why the Bane of the Empire was in front of him now. 

“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.” 

Vader lunged at Skywalker, who stepped aside to avoid his blow. The Jedi turned his lightsaber on, parrying Vader’s attacks, and kicked Vader in the stomach. The young Sith fell to the floor, losing his grip on his weapon. “I don’t want to fight you,” Skywalker said, placing a foot on Vader’s chest. “There is much I have to explain to you.” 

Vader summoned his lightsaber with the Force, and swung up at Skywalker’s chest. He missed but got back on his feet. “There is  _ nothing  _ you can explain to me, Skywalker,” he hissed, “because I’m going to kill you. Just like I killed your poor Master.” 

Skywalker’s jaw tightened. Vader remembered killing Obi-Wan Kenobi; it was his first Jedi kill. He didn’t experience the rush of pleasure the Emperor assured him he would feel; all he felt was emptiness at the sound of Skywalker’s screams. Kenobi hadn’t looked at him with hatred, like all other Jedi. There was only sadness in the Jedi Master’s eyes when Vader plunged his lightsaber in his chest. 

The Jedi General didn’t take the bait. “It wasn’t you that killed my Master,” Anakin Skywalker said as their lightsabers connected. “It was Sideous. He’s using you as a pawn.” 

Vader pressed his lightsaber against Skywalker’s. He saw the scar across the Jedi’s eye, the curve of his jaw and the blue of his eyes. It was familiar somehow. Almost like Vader had seen Skywalker every day of his life. 

“I’m not a pawn,” he said. “I am Darth Vader!” 

The Emperor had bestowed him his father’s Sith title. “You are not worthy of your own,” his Master had said. “You must earn it. Kill Skywalker and become a Sith in your own right.” 

But he liked being called Vader. It was the only connection he had to his father; his father, whom Skywalker murdered. A new rush of hatred swelled within him, and Vader swung his lightsaber again. 

Miss. 

He jabbed his weapon towards Skywalker’s chest. 

Miss. 

Skywalker smiled at him. “You don’t have to fight me. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Vader flung a metal bar at Skywalker. The Jedi dodged, but it was enough time for Vader to run down into the hallway. Skywalker followed and Vader threw every object at him with the Force. Skywalker held up his hand and everything froze. Instead of flinging them back at Vader, Skywalker let them drop to the floor. He winced at the sound of all the metal crashing to the ground. 

The Emperor was right. Vader wasn’t ready to face Skywalker- Skywalker, who decimated Imperial forces wherever he went- and now he would pay the price. He was no Sith. His father would be ashamed of him. 

“Are you going to surrender?” There was no malice in Skywalker’s voice. The Jedi was  _ toying _ with him. The idea filled him with rage. 

“Never.” 

He went to attack the Jedi again. Skywalker waved his hand, and Vader barely dodged metal from behind. He raced down the walkway, fear filling him. He’d failed the Empire. He failed his Master. 

He only stopped running when he reached the end of the walkway and faced a window. He was trapped. Skywalker was walking behind him, not even bothering to run. The Jedi knew he’d won. 

“Calm down.” Vader turned and saw Skywalker had put his lightsaber down. “There is something I need to tell you, Lu-” 

Vader jumped through the window, ignoring the pain of glass ripping through his skin. Skywalker yelled as he fell on the deck, though it didn’t hurt as much as it should have. Skywalker had lessened his fall. But why? 

_ To make your death last longer _ , he thought. That was what the Emperor would have done. He shrugged off his pain and got to his feet. Skywalker was already beside him. Vader didn’t have time to swing his lightsaber before it flew out of his hand and into the Jedi’s. 

“This is ending,” the Jedi said. Vader felt himself being lifted by the Force and pushed back to the end of the bridge. Metal wrapped around his chest and attached itself to the gantry. The more he moved, the more Skywalker tightened his grip. “You’re hurting yourself.” 

“Like you care,” Vader spat back. “You kidnapped Han!” 

Skywalker shook his head. “Solo defected to the Rebellion months ago. I created the vision to lure you here.” 

His heart stopped. He wanted to protest and say Skywalker was lying, but the Force confirmed the Jedi’s words. Han had betrayed him. Han, who’d patched him up after the Emperor’s training sessions. Han, who teased him about his relationship with Mara. Han, whom Vader had trusted. 

Despite himself, tears started to form in his eyes. Here he was, tied up, at a Jedi’s mercy, nearly crying. He glared at Skywalker. His father’s murderer didn’t react. 

“Do it then,” he said quietly. “Ignite your lightsaber. Avenge your Master. Get another shiny medal from your Rebellion.” 

“Solo defected because of you,” Skywalker responded. “He saw the torture the Emperor put you through. He just wants to help you.  _ I  _ want to help you.” 

“You’re a Jedi.” Vader struggled against his bonds to no avail. Skywalker was a sun in the Force, so bright that every push he made against Skywalker’s power died before anything could happen. “Jedi don’t want to help Sith.” 

“No,” Skywalker said. “But I want to help you. You are no real Sith. A Sith couldn’t care for anyone like Captain Solo. A true Sith makes the choice to Fall. You never had a choice.” 

He laughed bitterly. “What are you implying, Skywalker? That I’d choose to become a Jedi like you?” 

Anakin Skywalker took a step forward. “The Emperor never told you what happened to your father.” 

“He told me enough,” Vader screamed. “He told me  _ you  _ killed him.” 

“I killed Vader,” Skywalker said. “But I didn’t kill your father.” 

“What-?” 

“I once trusted Palpatine,” Skywalker said. “I dreamed that my wife and child would die in childbirth, and Palpatine promised me he could save them. But I had to turn to the Dark Side to save my family.” 

“Interesting story, Skywalker,” Vader retorted. “But I don’t care.” 

“I realized that I’d been taken advantage of. I stopped myself from doing something….horrible. You see, for a brief period of time, I wasn’t Anakin Skywalker. I was a Sith. A Sith known as Darth Vader.” 

“No,” he said. “No, that’s impossible!” 

_ This is the truth _ , the Force proclaimed.  _ Truth, truth, truth.  _

“You are not Darth Vader,” Skywalker- his  _ father _ -said, “you are Luke Skywalker. My son. The child the Emperor stole from me.” 

“I-” 

_ Truth, truth, truth _ , the Force shouted. How many times had the Emperor compared him to his father? He was an unworthy Sith, unworthy of having his own name. All because he was the son of a Jedi. 

“Luke,” Skywalker freed him from his bonds, but he still didn’t move. “You don’t have to be the Emperor’s slave anymore.  _ I _ will protect you. I will  _ never  _ let Sidious touch you again.” He sensed anger and fierce protectiveness brewing inside of Skywalker, an ongoing storm that never truly went away. That was why he’d Fallen to begin with, he realized. To protect the ones he cared about. He cared about Vader- about  _ Luke _ \- that way. Skywalker held out his hand. “Please, my son. Let me help you.” 

Vader- no, Luke, his name was Luke- stayed silent. He’d dreamed of his father coming back to life, of them killing the Emperor and ruling the galaxy together as father and son. Now his father was in front of him, but he was a Jedi, everything he’d fought against. Luke Skywalker already knew what would happen. Anakin Skywalker would train him as a Jedi, force him to never use the Dark Side again, and ruin the Empire he’d spent his life fighting for. 

He glanced down. There was still one way out. He leaned to the side-

He froze. Skywalker’s power was holding him upright. The Jedi’s presence wrapped around him like a blanket, but one that was impossible to get out of. There would be no escape. 

“Son,” Anakin said firmly. “Come with me.” 

Luke sighed. He felt so tired. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” He already knew what the answer would be. He knew Skywalker was fiercely protective of his loved ones. And Luke was his son. A son that had been kidnapped. His father would never let him go. 

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said. “You don’t.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I decided to continue with this AU bc I fell in love with the premise. This isn't going to be a full-fledged story, but I'll write whatever scenes I think of in this AU. So the chapters might not be in chronological order, but Ill let u guys know here when a story is taking place in the timeline. Theres also not really going to be "chapters" in the traditional sense, but more like drabbles that Im posting together. I hope that makes sense.
> 
> This chapter takes place after chapter one. 
> 
> Also, I still haven't decided what im gonna do with leia. I have a few different ideas for what to do with her but I haven't decided yet, which is why she hasn't been mentioned yet. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this! Sorry this chapter's a little short. 
> 
> Stay safe!

He awoke to bright white lights glaring above. His mind was trapped in molasses, slowly moving and comprehending his new reality. He felt an odd pain in his right arm. He tried to remember what had happened. 

Bespin. Skywalker-his father. It all came back to Vader- no, to Luke Skywalker- and he shot out of bed, desperate to flee Skywalker. He still had time. The Emperor would take him back and he would never be a true Sith, but that didn’t matter. He just had to act- 

“Hey, kid.” A hand touched his shoulder. “I think you still need some sleep.” The person gently pushed him back onto the bed and he turned around. It was Han. 

“Captain Solo,” he spat out. “Traitor.” 

Han winced. He lunged at the man, but Solo easily dodged his attack. He then noticed the Force-suppressant cuffs on his wrists. “I did it for you, kid.” 

“For me?” he laughed. “Thank you, Captain Solo. You have handed me over to the Rebellion I have tried to crush for years. They’ll kill me for everything I did to them.” He wondered, deliriously, if his father would take his revenge for Kenobi’s death. Had his words on Bespin been a trap? Maybe Skywalker would enter the room and plunge a lightsaber into his chest. The idea was surprisingly appealing.

Solo shook his head. “Kid, Skywalker’s the Rebellion’s Head General. He’s got more power than anyone else and you're his son. No one’s gonna touch you.” 

He stared at his bound hands. He was completely cut off from the Force. There were no emotions leaking into his mind, no quick flashes of what was to come, and the glowing life-forces he’d felt his entire life were gone. He was empty. 

“Sorry about that, kid,” Solo said, “High Command doesn’t want you goin’ around killing people while we rehabilitate you.” 

The Emperor loved to taunt him with his worthlessness: he wasn’t as good a Sith as his father, he’d failed to kill Skywalker, and he was  _ weak _ . The worst part was knowing the Emperor was right. He didn’t need Solo to accomplish his goals. But he’d liked the man and appreciated the safety he felt on the Falcon. He thought Han would never hurt him. 

Now here he was, a prisoner of the Rebellion. 

A prisoner of his own father. 

“Han,” he said quietly, the same way he’d talk to those he interrogated, “get out.” 

Solo left without another word. 

His father came in soon after. Anakin Skywalker was smaller without his Force presence, but there was still an edge to him. His teeth were sharp and his eyes always were scanning. Still, Skywalker smiled as he sat down next to the bed and reached for his hand. 

He tried to pull back. Skywalker wouldn’t let him. 

“Luke.” Despite his lack of connection to the Force, it still felt  _ right  _ to be called by that name. He’d only been known as either  _ Vader  _ or  _ Boy  _ or  _ Kid _ or in the Emperor’s case,  _ Weakling.  _ He had insults and titles but never a name. It was another way Bespin altered his life, another way that left him falling like he’d jumped from the gantry. He wasn’t worthy of a name, but now he had one. He knew Skywalker would refuse to call him by anything else. “How are you feeling?” 

“Why am I here?” When Skywalker raised an eyebrow, he continued. “This is a hospital room. There are faint marks on my right arm, and it’s sore even though I didn’t injure it in our duel.” Calling it a  _ duel _ was far too generous to himself; Skywalker could’ve killed him whenever he wanted to.

Skywalker squeezed his hands tight. He remembered that he had no more shields on his mind and Skywalker would hear everything he thought. “Luke,” his father whispered, “I will  _ never  _ hurt you. Please don’t think I would do that.” 

His face was blank. 

Skywalker sighed and finally let go of his hands. “I put you to sleep on Cloud City and brought you here. We found a tracker and….” his father shook his head and clenched his fist, “and a  _ transmitter _ in your arm. We had to remove it.” Skywalker gave him a small smile. “We made sure there were no others. You’re free, Luke.” 

He wasn’t surprised that the Emperor put a bomb in him. “That was smart,” he murmured. Skywalker smiled again, so he said, “Of the Emperor. A good way to keep me contained.” 

His father’s smile dropped. His words were the only power he had left over Skywalker. He briefly remembered some of his past punishments. The Emperor liked blasting him with lightning whenever he said something out of line. He froze. Skywalker could be the same way if he pushed him hard enough. 

Skywalker stood up. “Get some more rest, Luke. I’ll come back with some food in an hour.” 

  
  


“Hey, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said as Anakin left Luke’s room. “How was it?” 

“Terrible.” He marched forward, Luke’s words ringing in his head.  _ A good way to keep me contained _ . His son probably just said it to make him upset, but Anakin knew that wasn’t the whole story. Luke had been Palpatine’s slave his whole life. His own son grew up having to call the Emperor  _ Master _ . Luke had never known the joys of freedom, and never longed for it either. “I don’t know how to help him, Snips. He doesn’t understand that I won’t hurt him.” 

Ahsoka nodded. “It’ll take time, Anakin.” She glanced back at Luke’s room. The windows were one-sided; they could see Luke but Luke couldn’t see them. His son examined the Force-suppressant cuffs. It pained Anakin to cut his own child off from the Force, but he couldn’t always be with Luke to stop him from lashing out. The guards outside Luke’s room nodded. They’d seen the recordings Solo gave them. Everyone in the Alliance knew how Palpatine treated his apprentice. Anakin had received plenty of pitiful looks when he first brought Luke in. Soon, the whole galaxy would know how he failed as a father. 

“You do know he’s dangerous, right?” 

“I know,” he whispered. Obi-Wan’s death still hurt. But he didn’t blame Luke. Luke was just the weapon Palpatine used to kill his Master. “But we can show him the right path. It’s not too late for him.” 

Ahsoka looked away. They both knew Anakin would give up anything for Luke, even if his son hated him for eternity. Maybe it was too extreme. Maybe he should be more wary of a Sith. Anakin didn’t care. He’d failed so many before. He wouldn’t fail his son. 

“I’m just telling you to be prepared.” 

Skywalker came back with a tray of food. “The doctors said you should be fine eating,” the man said hurriedly. “Of course, if it’s too much, then I’ll-” 

“I don’t care about your backup plans, Skywalker. I’m hungry.” 

Anakin frowned. “You don’t have to call me that.” 

“General.” 

“ _ Dad _ works fine, you know.” 

He stopped. Skywalker was his father, he knew that to be true. The Force had all but screamed it on Bespin. And the Jedi had no reason to lie, no reason to manipulate him to his side. He was a failure of a Sith and would not make a good asset for the Rebellion. 

He’d spent his childhood wondering about the original Darth Vader, his father. He wondered how powerful the old Vader had been, and how Skywalker was able to kill him. Now he knew. His father was a failed Sith too. Clearly that was all he inherited from the man in front of him. 

“Sorry,” Skywalker said, placing the tray on his lap. “Call me whatever you want. I won’t pressure you into anything.” 

He ignored his father and reached for the fork and knife. Skywalker had brought some sort of meat. He nearly gagged on its rich aroma. His arm was still weak from surgery, and he dropped the fork. Skywalker grabbed it before he could and started cutting the meat for him. 

“I’m not a child. Surely  _ you  _ of all people should know that.” 

“I-” 

Skywalker pulled back. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” Skywalker’s behavior was unnerving. “You defeated me on Bespin. You get to treat me however you like.” 

“I did not  _ defeat  _ you,” Skywalker protested. “I saved you!” 

“From what?” 

Skywalker sputtered. “You can’t be serious. He put a  _ transmitter  _ in you!” 

The windows of the room shattered. The glass flew out, barely missing his bed. Skywalker’s eyes widened. “Luke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-” 

He raised the cuffs on his wrist. “At least my old Master was intentional when he hurt me. You should reign in your emotions, Skywalker. Lest you injure your own prisoner further.” 

“You’re my son. Not my prisoner.” 

“I don’t know much about fathers. But I think most would let their sons do want they wanted. And I do not want to be here.” 

Skywalker glared at him. “I can feel your mind. You know I will not harm you.” 

“On purpose? Probably not. Accidentally?” He gestured to the broken window. “Who knows.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello, Luke. Did I interrupt anything?” 

He turned around and faced the ghostly image of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He groaned. He did not want to deal with Kenobi haunting him, especially after what had happened with Skywalker. 

“I’m trying to sleep,  _ Kenobi _ ,” he said. “Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before showing up in the middle of the night.” He whispered, hoping the guards outside his cell wouldn’t hear him. 

Kenobi appeared the night after the Jedi’s death. He’d been staring up at the dark ceiling, his mind replaying the exact moment his lightsaber pierced Kenobi’s flesh. The Jedi hadn’t screamed in pain or attempted one last time to kill him. There was only a soft smile, a hand against his cheek, and a nod before the Jedi Master fell to the ground. That was when the ghost had arrived. 

His mind was poisoning him. Kenobi’s death should have been glorious, but he was too weak to handle it. Instead, Kenobi appeared every night, though he rarely said a word. 

“I am sorry, Luke.” He closed his eyes.  _ Luke _ . A creation of his own mind called him by that name. It was  _ his  _ name, but it was a name he didn’t earn. It was a name given freely by the man who was his sworn enemy.  _ Names are earned,  _ the Emperor once told him,  _ you were born as nothing. I will treat you as such until you make yourself matter.  _ “I merely wanted to comfort you. I know this must be stressful.” 

He chuckled. “You would know better than anyone.” Kenobi shook his head- the Jedi always insisted he was real and not a product of a diseased imagination- and drifted toward his bedside. “I shouldn’t have killed you. I should’ve killed  _ Skywalker _ . Then I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Kenobi said. 

“I do.” 

He rubbed his wrists together. The cuffs were so tight he was positive his wrists would bleed if he placed a little more pressure on them. It would be something to occupy his time. The only things he could do now was think. Think, and talk to a ghost, and wait for his father to end him. 

“Did you know?” he whispered. “Did you know who I was?” 

Kenobi frowned. “Only when you wounded me, dear one. I looked into your eyes and saw Anakin’s staring right back.” 

That was how the Emperor saw him, he realized. He was the weaker, broken version of Anakin Skywalker. A constant reminder of betrayal and failure. No wonder the Emperor hated him. 

“He will hate me,” he said. “Skywalker was the most powerful Jedi who ever lived. I can’t even kill one Jedi without  _ this _ -” he gestured to the ghost, “happening. I’m a failure. He’ll have to see that eventually.” His father would walk in one day, fed up with his inability to be a perfect son, and end his life with the flick of a wrist. Then, he would be free of the cuffs and free of this hospital room and free of Skywalker’s pitying stares. “He has to.” 

“Oh, Luke.” Kenobi ran a ghostly hand through his hair. Despite knowing it wasn’t real, his hair ruffled like a light breeze had swept through the room. “One day you will understand.” 

“I understand everything,” he replied as Kenobi faded away. “That’s the problem.” 

  
  


_ Luke writhed on the floor as Palpatine fired waves of lightning. His son’s screams echoed throughout the throne room and filled the palace with dreadful foreboding. “Stop!” Anakin grabbed his lightsaber and ran towards the Emperor, but when he attacked his lightsaber went right through.  _

_ This was a vision. A vision of his son being tortured. It wasn’t real. There was nothing Anakin could do besides watch.  _

_ “Skywalker still lives,  _ Vader,”  _ Sidious hissed. “That Jedi will tear apart my Empire because of your continued failures!”  _

_ “M- Master,” Luke said, and Anakin’s heart stopped at the sound of his son saying that evil word, “Master, I’m sorry.” His son’s face was stained with tears and he was curled up like the child he was. “I’m sorry.”  _

_ Sidious stopped firing. He bent over Luke and grasped the boy’s face with his wrinkled hand. “‘Sorry’ does not kill Skywalker. It does not destroy the Rebellion. Your words mean nothing to me. Only your actions do.”  _

_ “I know, Master.” Luke bowed his head, not looking Palpatine in the eye. (Slaves never looked their Masters in the eye if they knew what was good for them, Anakin thought.) “I will not fail the next time.”  _

_ “Good.” Palpatine let go of Luke and Luke practically collapsed on the floor. “Now  _

_ Vader, I believe you must return to tracking Skywalker’s location.”  _

_ Luke nodded and left the room. The vision blurred as Luke returned to his tiny quarters and fell down on his bed. Anakin turned away. He already knew what was next. His son would see the vision Anakin had planted in his mind and come running to Bespin, falling right into his own father’s trap.  _

Anakin woke up. His bedsheets were twisted and sweaty from the nightmare, and he threw them aside before falling out of bed. Luke’s screams rang in his mind. He had failed Luke; a fact his dreams wouldn’t let him forget. He felt even more helpless than he did after dreams of Padme’s death. Then, he had hope he could save her. Now, he was just an observer of the past. There was nothing he could do to change how Sidious tortured his son. All he could do now was give Luke the support he needed. 

He quickly put on his uniform. There would be a meeting in the Rebellion about 

Luke’s fate. They’d already seen Solo’s recordings, but he was still concerned they wouldn’t forgive Luke. He had to make them understand that his son wasn’t a servant but a slave. 

“General Skywalker,” Mon Mothma said when he arrived. “Take a seat.” 

Ahsoka gestured for him to sit beside her. This meeting was only Mothma, Bail 

Organa, Ahsoka, and Han Solo. Solo was a reluctant member of the Rebellion, but he knew Luke the best. Organa he was worried about. He knew Luke interrogated the Senator before Anakin and Obi-Wan rescued him on the Death Star. But Organa had a soft spot for children, especially after his daughter Winter died in Alderaan’s destruction. Ahsoka would side with him. Mothma was the true wild card in the situation. 

Mothma cleared her throat as she took her seat at the head of the table. “We are here today to discuss the fate of the self-proclaimed ‘Darth Vader,’ birth name Luke Skywalker, son of General Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala.” 

“I don’t even know why we’re here, Lady,” Solo said, his fist clenched. “The kid’s 

Been thrown through the ringer his whole life. You want justice? Kill Palpatine instead.” 

“Agreed,” Anakin said. “My son has been abused and tortured. Are we going to punish the victim, or rehabilitate him?” He’d been practicing this speech ever since he rescued Luke. He would not let the Rebellion touch a hair on his son’s head. “I was born a slave. The Masters kept my people in line through torture and intimidation. One wrong step and we’d be blown to pieces. Palpatine used the same tactic on my son.” 

“Your son didn’t seem to know about the transmitter until we told him,” Organa 

Said. Anakin glared. “I am not saying your son isn’t a victim. I am just pointing out the truth is more complicated than it appears.” 

Ahsoka grabbed his hand.  _ Stay calm,  _ she said through their bond.  _ If you want them to pardon Luke, you must stay calm.  _ “Even if he didn’t know about the transmitter, Palpatine would torture him if he failed a mission. What was he supposed to do? Run away from the Emperor and to the Rebellion he’s fought against his whole life? I saw plenty of freed slaves on Tatooine continue to work for their former Masters because they had nowhere else to go.” He sighed. “I know my son has hurt the Rebellion. We can’t ignore that. But we shouldn’t punish him for the way he was raised.” 

“I fought Luke Skywalker before,” Ahsoka said. Anakin’s eyes widened. He knew Ahsoka had battled Luke not long after Obi-Wan died, but she never told him the details. “I made a mistake. Left myself open for attack. But instead of killing me like any other Sith, Luke hesitated.” 

“Was this not a mistake on his part?” Mothma said. 

Ahsoka shook her head. “I saw him glance down at his lightsaber then back at me. I don’t want to speculate on what he was thinking, but most people raised by the Emperor wouldn’t hesitate to strike an enemy down.” 

“Bail,” Mothma said, “would you describe Luke as the type to hesitate?” 

The former Viceroy of Alderaan locked eyes with Anakin. The Senator had scars from his experiences on the Death Star, and Anakin knew the man suffered nightmares because of what happened (though much of that was due to Alderaan’s destruction.) He mentally pleaded for the Senator to have mercy for his son. 

“No.” Anakin’s heart dropped. “Luke Skywalker reminded me of a machine. He was given orders and he followed them without question.” 

“The kid’s not a machine, he’s a person!” Solo jabbed a finger at Bail. “Thought those recordings would be enough proof of that, Your Highness.” 

Bail raised his hand. “You did not let me finish. Luke was not raised in an ordinary environment. Thus, he cannot be judged as an ordinary Imperial. There were plenty of cases of abused children on Alderaan obeying their guardians without question, even when those guardians told them to do the wrong thing. On Alderaan, we rehabilitated these children. I believe we should do the same for Luke.”

Mothma nodded. “I agree. General Skywalker and Commander Tano, you are responsible for containing Luke until he is fully treated. He is not to be out of your sight. Understood?” 

Anakin glanced at his Padawan. Ahsoka gave him a small smile. 

“Understood.” 

“Here, Luke,” he said as he turned on the holo in the room. His quarters were relocated to be next to his son’s cell. Luke still wore the Force suppressant cuffs, and the walls were lined with steel. Guards posted outside were ready in case Luke tried to escape. “What do you want to watch?” 

His son blinked from the chair tucked away in the corner. Luke stared at him like he’d suddenly grown an extra head. “What are you talking about, Skywalker?” 

“There’s plenty of holodramas on,” Anakin said. “Of course, we can’t get on the main broadcasting system without the Empire tracking us, but we’ve made plenty of our own stuff.” 

“Do not use  _ we _ , Skywalker. I played no role in your propaganda network.” 

“It’s not propaganda. It’s entertainment.” Anakin gestured for his son to sit beside him. “It’ll be fun! Here, my favorite is-” 

“I am not five, Skywalker,” Luke said. “You don’t need to treat me as such.” 

Anakin frowned. Did Luke know how old he was? “You’re nineteen, Luke. Nineteen year olds can watch holodramas too.” 

His son glanced at the floor. Anakin resisted the urge to read Luke’s mind. Doing that would only damage Luke’s trust in the long-run. 

“I don’t want to watch that,” Luke said quietly. “I don’t know if you realize this, Skywalker, but I don’t want to see the people I have fought beside my whole life be demonized.” 

“There’s no need to demonize the Emperor.” Anakin tried to keep his voice down. “Palpatine tortured you-” 

“I wasn’t talking about my Master, Skywalker.” 

“He is not your Master!” Anakin marched over to his son and bent down beside him. “You’re free, Luke. Why can’t you understand that?” 

His son tilted his head. Then, he shot out of his seat and lunged towards the door. Anakin had enough time to restrain him with the Force before Luke crashed into the steel wall. 

“This isn’t freedom.” 

Anakin sighed. “This is only until you get better, Luke.” 

“And who is the judge of ‘better?’” 

He didn’t answer. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“Come on,” the Togruta woman said. “Get up.” 

The Togruta had come in right after his father left. It was funny how irritated Skywalker would get in his presence. Soon, the man would kill him, and all of this would be over. He just had to keep pushing. 

“I don’t want to get up,” he responded. “I thought you Rebels had freed me from the Emperor. Well, I am free to sit in this chair as long as I like.” 

The Togruta grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Physical therapy is standard after every surgery. Doctor’s orders.” 

“And whose the doctor? You?” 

She shook her head. “My name is Ahsoka. I was your father’s Padawan.” 

His eyes widened. “You- you were the Jedi on Malachor, weren’t you?” That had been one of his first missions after he’d taken the name Vader. He’d failed in capturing the Sith holocron. The only success of the mission was in bringing the dead body of Darth Maul back to his Master. “I tried to kill you.” 

“No harm, no foul,” Ahsoka said. “A lot of people have tried to kill me.” 

“What do you want?” 

“To spar.” The Jedi held out her hand, and two staff flew in her direction. They were training staffs- something he hadn’t used in years. She tossed one to him and got into a fighting stance. “I assume you know how to fight?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need the Force to kill you-” 

Ahsoka swung the staff and he just had time to block the blow. He pushed back then ducked to the side, freeing himself. He jabbed the weapon towards Ahsoka’s stomach and she sidestepped. 

Their dance continued. He’d swing his staff and she’d parry. He’d dodge her attempts to trip him. 

“Good work,” Ahsoka said when he dodged another strike. “You’re quick on your feet.” 

“Did my father approve of this?” Their staffs met. Ahsoka was strong and he felt himself slipping. His right arm still felt stiff from surgery. He shifted his right shoulder and Ahsoka took the opportunity to hook her staff under his and make it drop to the floor. She lightly tapped her staff against his chest. 

“Of course Skyguy didn’t approve.” She laughed. “I think he’d rip me apart if you stubbed your toe?” 

“Skyguy?” He wondered if the Togruta was insane. “Do you actually call him that?” 

“Absolutely,” Ahsoka said. “Drives him crazy. That’s why I keep doing it.” 

He tried to imagine referring to the Emperor by an equally disrespectful nickname. “I thought he was your Master.” 

“He is.” Ahsoka placed a hand on his shoulder. “Anakin is my family. It is not my duty to obey him; it is his responsibility to earn my trust. That’s how it works.” 

He never trusted Sidious. He feared his Master. Fear was how relationships worked. That was why Han betrayed him; Solo feared Skywalker’s wrath more than his. Ahsoka didn’t fear him. His father didn’t fear him. He closed his eyes. He would never be able to escape when no one was terrified enough to help him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarification: the reason why Luke can see Obi-Wan's ghost with the cuffs on is bc Obi-Wan is using his Force abilities to bypass the cuffs. It's also why the Rebellion's cameras don't show Luke talking to himself. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Feel free to leave any thoughts or suggestions in the comments! Stay safe everyone and wash your hands!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of hanging, references to child abuse (this trigger's gonna apply to the whole fic ok), references to mass slaughter, I think thats it? 
> 
> Ok this chapter is shorter than the other ones but ive kinda hit a road block so i figured id just post what i have done. Hope u guys still enjoy this tho! 
> 
> Stay safe and wash ur hands!
> 
> This chapter features a therapy session. i am not a psychologist and ive only had a few therapy sessions so i guess its not the most accurate therapy youll see in a fic. i guess they do therapy differently in space.

“Anakin.” Dr. Jana Alistan gestured to the chair opposite her. They were in one of the Rebellion’s empty hospital wings that had been converted to a psych center after Alderaan’s destruction. Countless rebels had suffered nightmares of their planets being destroyed, or being torn apart by the Death Star’s laser. Those nightmares lingered after the Death Star’s destruction, and the psych wing became a permanent part of the base. “Please, sit down.” 

He’d talked to Jana several times since her office was established. He’d visited her after Obi-Wan’s death, when his heart boiled with rage at both Vader and himself. Another time was when he found out the true identity of Palpatine’s apprentice. The psychologist had sat perfectly still as Anakin screamed his rage. 

_ I’m going to kill him,  _ Anakin had declared,  _ I will rip him apart piece by piece for stealing my son!  _

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be reminded of what happened on Tatooine so many years ago.  _ They were animals, and I slaughtered them like animals!  _ He closed his eyes. He wished he’d found the courage to tell Obi-Wan the truth. Now, he would never know if his Master would’ve accepted him despite what he’d done. 

“Anakin,” Jana said quietly, taking out her holopad. “How are you doing?” 

“How do you think?” he snapped. He shook his head. “Every time I try to help Luke, I only make things worse. My only son hates me.” 

“That is natural,” Jana said. “He has been raised to despise the Jedi. You revealing that you are his father likely strengthened his hatred. If I had to guess, Luke feels lost and confused, and you’re responsible for those feelings.” 

“But-” 

Jana raised a hand. Anakin slouched in his chair. “I did not say you want Luke to feel lost, or that you are trying to make him feel worse. Anger is a natural response when our lives are altered in fundamental ways. But you did not answer my question. How are you doing? This session is not about Luke. It is about you.” 

“I-” He hated how Jana seemed to read his mind. He suspected she was Force-sensitive, but she would insist it was just her psychology degree. “Anger. I hate Palpatine. He’s put my son through so much pain and-” he sighed “and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I can’t change what happened to Luke. I can’t give him back the childhood Palpatine took from him.” 

Jana nodded and wrote some notes. “You wish you could’ve been there for Luke. You wish you were the one to raise him.” 

“Of course,” he said. “I would’ve protected him. He would never been hurt by  _ anyone _ , and he’d be comfortable being called by his own name, and he wouldn’t have a  _ transmitter  _ like he was-” He couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“A slave?” 

He nodded. Jana gave him a sad smile. It was an open secret that Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, was a former slave. He’d never talked about his past with anyone before, and especially not Jana. 

“It’s my fault,” he murmured, “everything he’s been through is because I wasn’t there to save him.” 

Jana raised an eyebrow. “Explain.” 

“But-” He’d already told her what happened the night of Order 66. Anakin had sworn himself to Palpatine and marched on the Jedi Temple. He had just started to attack when Obi-Wan intercepted him. Their duel had been brief. He’d confessed to his Master that he did not want to betray the Jedi, but Padme and his child were more important. He could not live without his family, and he was willing to do anything to keep them safe. 

Obi-Wan had stared at him and turned off his lightsaber. “Anakin,” he said tiredly, “you’re an idiot. If Palpatine could resurrect the dead, why hasn’t he resurrected any of the Sith Masters? That would certainly make destroying the Jedi a lot easier.” That had been the end of Darth Vader. He joined Obi-Wan in warding off the Temple’s attackers before racing back to Padme’s apartment. He’d expected to find his wife waiting, beautiful in a silk gown, ready to go to the hospital to give birth. Instead, he found her lying on a bloody bed, her stomach torn open and holding the corpse of an infant. 

Obi-Wan had found him hours after the Temple had been evacuated, still holding the bodies of his wife and what he thought was his daughter. Anakin remembered the dead infant’s face. She had tufts of blonde hair and Padme’s nose. She could’ve been their daughter. He hadn’t questioned it at the time. He’d buried the infant alongside Padme at Varykino before fleeing the Empire with Obi-Wan. 

After he’d found out about Luke, he returned to Naboo to exhume his family’s bodies. The infant wasn’t related to him or Padme. If he had to guess, she was one of the newborns that had been taken to the Temple only days before Order 66. Palpatine had planted her with Padme so he could steal his real child and raise Luke in secret. He’d wasted nineteen years mourning a stranger while his real son was being tortured. 

He should’ve checked to see if the infant was his child. He should’ve never attacked the Temple and always stayed by Padme’s side. He could’ve fought off Sidious. He could’ve protected Padme, and she would still be alive and they would be raising Luke together. His son would have only known love if Anakin had just been  _ better _ . A better Jedi; a better father and husband. 

He told Jana this. The therapist put her holopad down and stared at him for a few seconds. “Anakin,” she said, “did you kill Padme? Did you take Luke?” 

“What? No!” 

“Then you are not responsible. If you aren’t responsible, then you should not feel guilt.” 

He blinked out the tears forming in his eyes. “If I was strong enough-” 

“Anakin.” Jana’s voice cut through his mind, temporarily anchoring him. “You have met several parents that have lost their children to slavery or Project Harvester. Were those parents weak? Was it their fault that they lost their children?” 

“No,” he said. “No, of course not. They did everything they could.” 

“Didn’t you?” Jana whispered. “Anakin, why are you different? Why is your loss your fault?” 

“Because-” 

_ Because I’m a Jedi. Because I’m the Hero With No Fear. Because I am the Chosen One.  _

“I’m not like everyone else,” he said. “I have the power to protect the ones I love.” 

He knew Jana didn’t believe him. No one in the Rebellion believed Anakin could protect anyone. They all knew what Palpatine had done to his son, and how Anakin let it happen through his ignorance. They all knew that despite his achievements, he was nothing but a failure when it mattered most. 

His mother. His Padawan. His wife. His son. His Master. Was there anyone in his life that he hadn’t failed? 

  
  
  
  
  


Han shut off his com. All the messages were nonsense- he should do this mission here or help out this Rebel base here- and he barely scrolled through them before throwing the com aside in frustration. He’d tried contacting Chewie, but the Wookie had either changed his com frequency or was ignoring Han. Both options were plausible, and that fact made his stomach twist. 

Chewie had left when Han agreed to work for the Kid-Luke, he reminded himself-and told him that he was no good for working for the Empire. Han had gotten frustrated and snapped at Chewie, telling the Wookie he only wanted money. Chewie left. Han then remembered how the Empire had invaded Kashykk and enslaved the Wookies. 

He really was the worst friend. 

He told himself he’d finish the job the Kid had hired him for- a simple break-in to a suspected traitor’s facility- and that would be that. The only problem was Luke. The Kid was funny, though he didn’t know it. He was serious too. Luke had a quiet sense of righteousness buried under that Imperial upbringing. Han knew Luke thought he was doing the right thing. He also knew the hell that Palpatine had put the Kid through. 

It had started off with noticing the burn marks over the Kid’s back. Han had applied a healing salve after a Rebel had gotten a lucky shot, and the Kid had no choice but to take his shirt off. Han had expected a nasty mark on his right shoulder where the blaster bolt had hit, but not a fern-like scar that ran down the kid’s arm. 

“The hell is that, Kid?” 

Luke didn’t look back at him. He continued to stare forward at the walls of the Millenium Falcon. “A chemical spilled over me when I last visited Lothal,” he said quietly. “I pay you not to ask questions, Solo.” 

Han shrugged it off, but later he did his research. That weird pattern could only come from getting hit by lightning. Lothal never had lightning storms. 

The Kid had strange powers. Han had seen him move things and people with a flick of his hand. The Kid always knew where he was and could figure out what he was thinking without looking at him. But Han was pretty sure he couldn’t generate lightning. 

The next thing he noticed was how the Kid referred to the Emperor. Han wasn’t sure of their relationship, but Luke never seemed to refer to the man who raised him with any sort of affection. Palpatine was only “my Emperor” or “my Master” to Luke. Han wasn’t the type to read too deeply into other people’s relationships- he knew it was a pain when people assumed things- but something didn’t seem right. 

“What’s your name?” he’d asked one day while they were cleaning the Millenium Falcon. “I can’t keep mentally referring to you as ‘Kid.’” 

The Kid glared. “Vader is my title. Refer to me as that.” 

“I didn’t ask for your title, kid, I asked for your name.” 

The Kid tilted his head, looking like a confused puppy. “I don’t have one.” 

After that, he noticed every scar and every bruise. He noticed how the Kid never smiled at the mention of Palpatine; the Kid only ever seemed tired around the Imperial Palace. He noticed how the Kid didn’t have any friends. The Kid wasn’t a Lord or a Prince or anything close to what Han initially thought. The Kid wasn’t a kid; he was a weapon. A tool for the Empire. 

It was easy to get the recordings Skywalker asked for. It was easy to plant a tiny, lightning-proof camera on Luke’s clothes when he patted the boy on the shoulder. What wasn’t easy was the waiting. He wanted to kill Palpatine and get Luke out of there, but Skywalker insisted they wait for the right moment. 

Luke would be furious once he knew that Han betrayed his trust again. That Han had shown his torture to the whole Rebellion without asking. Han knew Luke hated feeling vulnerable. 

_ I had no choice _ , he told himself.  _ The Rebellion needed to know Luke wasn’t responsible for his actions. It’s the only way they’d let him live.  _

He knew that wasn’t true. Skywalker would’ve taken Luke and hidden him. But Luke didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life hunted like an animal because of the monster that raised him. 

Han reached for his blaster. He’d heard of stories of how they used to kill people in the old times, back on whatever messed up planet humans originated on. Apparently, they’d tie a rope around someone’s neck, and remove whatever the person was standing on, leaving them to hang. Han felt like that person. The recordings were the noose tied around his neck. 

And he didn’t know when he would hang. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I've finally risen from the dead and posted another chapter. I just want to let u guys know that I don't really have a plan for this fic. It was supposed to be a oneshot but I thought the idea was interesting so I continued it. Idk if ill finish it but I promise if I decide to discontinue the fic I will post a summary on what would have happened so you guys can get some closure. 
> 
> Triggers: ugh....Palpatine being Palpatine? I guess? 
> 
> Hope u enjoy!

_ He was in a garden. It was unlike any he’d ever seen-not that he’d seen many gardens-and he couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful and bizarre array of flowers that circled him. There were lilacs and petunias dotted with peculiar black roses along the way. Birds chirped and he felt the breeze caress his face. He turned to the right and saw a lake framed by trees. This garden was peaceful. He didn’t detect any enemies or other signs of danger.  _

_ “I wouldn’t sit down if I were you,” a woman said. He blinked, and she materialized in front of him, wearing a simple white shirt and a black skirt. Her brown hair was tied behind and her dark eyes looked at him kindly. “It took me a year to grow those flowers. First time gardening. I think it turned out alright, do you?”  _

_ “Yes,” he murmured. The woman was beautiful. She knelt down and examined a black rose. Her fingers traced the petals. “Who are you?”  _

_ “You already know  _ that _ ,” the woman responded. “It’s something you’ve always known.”  _

_ The woman was familiar. He’d seen that brown hair and those brown eyes somewhere before. The image resonated in his mind, like he’d seen it so many times over that it barely registered. The smile was more faint, but he must have seen that too.  _

_ “Luke,” the woman said, and his heart stopped. She knew his name. He knew her face and she knew his name and that had to mean something. She touched his cheek and he cradled himself in her palm. “You know who I am. You can put the pieces together.”  _

_ “I want to stay here.” The garden was quiet. There were no blasters firing or ships flying and the sky was clear and there was no crackle of lightning. “Can I do that?”  _

_ “I’m sorry.” The woman backed away. A petal flew out of her hand and drifted toward the lake. “I’m afraid you have more important things to do.”  _

He woke up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his right arm. He pushed himself up, ignoring the brief flares of pain, as he took in his surroundings. He was in his bedroom in the special quarters ( _ cell _ his mind hissed) that Skywalker gave him. The cuffs yanked him away from the hazy joy of his dream. He was a prisoner, not a wanderer in a garden. It was Skywalker that stood by the door of his cramped bedroom, not the woman. The gentleness of the woman’s gaze wasn’t in Skywalker’s; his father only looked at him with narrowed eyes and a stiff posture. 

He turned away. Every interaction with Skywalker ended with an awkward tension. He’d insult his father one too many times, and Skywalker would refuse to speak with him, staring at him but continually looking away. Yet Skywalker always came back. 

He’d wasted far too much time waiting for Skywalker to kill him. It was possible- likely, even- that his father would end this charade and kill him. There was nothing he could do to stop that; Skywalker was too powerful a Jedi. But the other possibility, unlikely as it was, held some promise. If Skywalker genuinely wanted to be his father, then that gave him an opportunity. If he acted like the perfect son, Skywalker would be his to manipulate. He could escape and return to his Master, maybe even with an Anakin Skywalker that returned to the Dark. He wasn’t a good Sith, but he was still a Sith. He couldn’t accept his fate without trying to save himself. 

“Hello, Father.” 

Skywalker gasped and stumbled for a moment, before straightening and moving to sit down beside him and take his hand. “Luke,” Skywalker said, eyes shining pathetically, “I- how did you sleep?” 

“Fine, Father.” 

“That’s good.” Luke wondered what he would’ve been like had Skywalker raised him. Would he be as weak and as emotional? He hoped not. The Emperor despised men like Skywalker, who had all the power in the world yet fell apart at two simple words. Skywalker did not deserve the abilities the Force blessed him with. The Emperor deserved the power the Force had given to the Skywalker bloodline. The Emperor wasn’t weak. Palpatine never flinched, never hesitated, and never did anything as stupid as cradling his cheek with a soft smile as Skywalker did right then. 

“Master Ani,” a posh voice said through the door, “I have the breakfast you requested for Master Luke.” 

Skywalker nodded and the door swung open. A golden protocol droid stepped in, followed by a sleeker, sliver droid that carried a tray full of food that it placed on Luke’s lap before sliding away. The golden droid remained and bowed its head, offering a hand to Luke. 

“Master Luke, it is a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Hi.” The Emperor owned countless droids but none were as friendly as this one. There were the med-droids that patched him up after training and the ones he destroyed every training session. Others scuttled around the palace halls, carrying messages from one high-ranking Imperial to another. Skywalker did not snap at the droid and demand for it to leave; instead, he smiled, and placed Luke’s hand in the droid’s. 

“Meet C-3PO,” his father said, “or Threepio, as I like to call him. Designed him myself.” 

“A pleasure,” he responded. “Can it let go now?” Threepio immediately dropped his hand and prattled apologies until Luke told him to shut up. 

“Why don’t you take Artoo and examine my ship, Threepio?” The droid nodded and left them alone.

Luke eyed his breakfast. It wasn’t poisoned- Skywalker could kill him without resorting to such trouble- but it was too much for a prisoner. There were sausages and eggs and several flat cakes in circles-

“Those are called pancakes,” Anakin said. He glared. “Sorry, Luke. I didn’t mean to read your mind.” 

Skywalker had only skimmed his thoughts. He sighed in relief. The breakfast was a promising sign- why waste the delicious food on a prisoner?- but it could also be a ploy to make him obey. It was a tactic Sidious had used on a few high-ranking prisoners- obey and keep the gilded cage- but it never lasted. The prisoners were lulled, became complacent, and that was when the true torture began. 

“Thank you, Father,” he said as he ate his breakfast. Skywalker smiled again- Force, the man was predictable- and ruffled his hair. He froze, but forced himself to relax. “Your droid is….interesting.” He wasn’t surprised that a droid Skywalker made could be such a pain. 

Anakin laughed. “Yep. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Threepio got me through some hard times. He was a real help to my mom.” 

“Your mother?” The Jedi were kidnappers just like the Sith. Luke knew the old Order ‘recruited’ children as young as three. “You knew her?” 

“Yeah.” Anakin rubbed the back of his neck, and took his son’s hand. “I’m from Tatooine. Outer Rim. My mother and I were….well, we weren’t in a good position. For nine years, I only had her. Then I was found by the Jedi.” His shoulders sagged, like he’d been holding some crushing weight and had just started to falter. “She…..she was incredible. She would have loved you so much, Luke.” 

He shifted. Skywalker’s mother was dead, then. It was strange to hear about a woman he’d never met, yet had an undeniable connection to. This woman, whoever she was, was his grandmother. She was the reason he even existed at all, but he would never get to meet her. 

“What was her name?”

“Shmi. Shmi Skywalker.” 

“And your father?”

Anakin let go of Luke’s hand. “I didn’t have one.” 

  
  


Darth Sidious smiled. He’d been expecting Skywalker to capture Vader (though of course Skywalker didn’t know who the boy truly was) ever since the death of Kenobi. Now the worst apprentice he’d had was gone. He could devote his full attention to his new apprentice, the one he’d been training in private ever since the Death Star’s Destruction. 

His apprentice entered the throne room cloaked in black. She knelt down at his feet, bowing to him, then rose, still keeping her head down. 

“Father,” the girl said, “What news do you wish to share?” 

Sidious had no desire to be a parent, but it was easier to manipulate the girl when she assumed he regarded her as a daughter. He could say the word and the girl would kill herself to prove her devotion to him. The thought was pleasant, but that was an avenue he could not pursue. The girl had her purpose just as the boy did. Now, his plan would finally come to fruition. 

“My dear,” Sidious said, “I’m afraid Lord Vader has failed. He has been captured by Anakin Skywalker.” 

“The Jedi General,” the girl whispered. “That means-” 

“That Vader is at the Rebellion’s headquarters,” he finished. 

The girl’s eyes widened. Her face was white, and Sidious noticed her jaw was clenched. “What do you want me to do, Father?” 

“My dear Leia,” the Emperor said, “I want you to find him.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im back everyone! Inspiration struck me for another chapter and I had to write it. I hope you guys enjoy. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Palpatine being Palpatine. 
> 
> Feel free to leave any criticism/general thoughts in the comments below. I won't be offended by any critical comments. I welcome criticism as a way to improve my writing.

“Snips!” Anakin yanked on his arm, dragging him toward the Togruta woman (what was her name? Ashla? Ashoka?). “Luke wanted to talk to you.” 

“I- Father!” Anakin pushed him into the seat opposite Ahsoka. They were in one of the smaller eating rooms at the Rebel base. There were only a few other Rebels in the room. All of them stared at Luke with suspicious eyes. One of them, a boy with ridiculous blue hair, had the audacity to shake his head at Luke. 

He turned away. The Rebels were not worth his time. The Togruta woman smiled at him, and he felt himself slightly relax. He waited for Skywalker’s hand to leave his shoulder. It didn’t. 

“Anakin,” His father’s padawan rolled her eyes. “You can leave now.” 

“Oh!” Skywalker’s hands flew off his shoulder. “But, Ahsoka-” 

“I can handle him,” she replied. “Besides, you look like you need a break.” 

“But-” 

“Anakin.” 

“Alright.” His father bent down in front of him. “You be good for Ahsoka, okay?” 

“Yes, Father.” It was only years of training and the Force suppressant cuffs that stopped him from clawing Skywalker’s eyes out. 

His father finally left the room, leaving him alone with the padawan. (He refused to count the other Rebels. They were beneath him.) Ahsoka handed him a plate of military rations. He eagerly stuffed the bars in his mouth, glad to be free of the rich food Skywalker fed him. 

“He’s overbearing, isn’t he?” 

“Wha-” He swallowed the last of the bar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Ahsoka laughed. “I’ve known Anakin for years. Trust me, he’s gotten clingy with me too.” 

_ I doubt he’s hunted you down and forced your friend- no, employee- to betray you.  _ “He’s doing his best,” he murmured. There was a lightsaber on the Togruta’s belt. What had happened to his own lightsaber, the one Palpatine had handed him so many years ago? “He’s my father.” 

Ahsoka looked down. “That doesn’t mean he should be your jailer.” Laughter threatened to burst from him. “Listen, Luke, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can talk to me.” 

He blinked. “And you’ll report to Sky- my father?” Palpatine had the Inquisitors report on everything he did, from what he said to what he asked for to what he accomplished (or failed to accomplish, more often) in training. Ahsoka had to serve Skywalker in the same way. Skywalker was just as powerful as Palpatine. The Rebels had flocked to him because of his power, because of what would happen should they oppose him. 

“No, Luke. I don’t serve Anakin. We both want what’s best for you, but we don’t always agree on how to do that.” 

“I-” Any Inquisitor who said something like that would be executed for treason. “I won’t tell him that.” He did not want to imagine Skywalker going into a fit of rage, killing Ahsoka like Palpatine had killed so many of his nannies and guards. 

She smiled. “He already knows.” 

“Oh.” He’d requested to speak to Ahsoka to gain information on his father.  _ Clingy _ was now at the top of Skywalker’s weakness list, but that wasn’t enough. He couldn’t turn or defeat Skywalker if the man was attached to him like a leech. 

“What was he like?” His questions had to stay general. “As a teacher.” 

“He was incredible. Everyone in the Temple was so jealous of me when he became my Master. All padawans wanted to be trained by the Chosen One. But Anakin is so much more than that. He cared deeply about his friends and he wasn’t afraid to show it.” 

“That’s unconventional.” The Emperor painted all Jedi as emotionally repressed disasters. 

“It was.” Ahsoka smiled. “But it’s what makes him a great Jedi. It’s why he resisted Sidious.” 

_ He didn’t resist Sidious, _ he thought,  _ Sidious just didn’t try hard enough _ . 

He had a feeling that Skywalker’s devotion to his loved ones wasn’t just protectiveness. It was an obsession. And that was a weakness he could exploit. 

  
  
  
  
  


Sparks flew off her fingertips. Leia smiled, letting electricity flow through her, and shot her hand out, prepared for the lightning that would exit it. Her hair stood up on its ends, her fingertips burned with heat, and- 

Nothing. The spark faded. Her father sat on his throne, his yellow eyes brilliant against the darkness of the room. 

She knelt, almost planting her face on the floor. “Father, I am sorry-” 

“Silence.” She heard footsteps. Her father gripped her chin, forcing her to look upward. “Here, I am your Master.” 

She swallowed. “Yes, Master.” 

He let go and turned around. “Do you know what this room was used for, Princess?” 

“Yes, Master.” Leia had poured eagerly over the old Sith texts, detailing every bit of the Jedi Temple. It was one of many steps she’d taken to prepare for training. “This was where the Jedi Council convened.” 

“Correct.” Her father’s raspy voice echoed through the walls. She’d rarely heard her father speak directly to her, so she treasured every word he said. “This was where

they plotted to betray the Republic. But that is only one of their many crimes. Here, they secretly planned the Clone Wars with the former Jedi, Count Dooku. Here, they planned to place a spy in my office, to directly undermine the will of our people.” 

“Skywalker.” Leia had heard countless reports of the Rebel General. Anakin Skywalker could lift whole starships without blinking. Anakin Skywalker could melt minds with a smile. Anakin Skywalker slaughtered Imperial forces every day, ruining the progress her father had fought so hard for. Anakin Skywalker had betrayed her father, and sired the boy who’d made her childhood miserable. 

“Yes, my Apprentice.” Palpatine paused at the center of the room. “This is where that fool Yoda once sat. Do you know why he failed, Princess?” 

“He was weak, Master.” 

To her surprise, he shook his head. “Yoda was the strongest of the Jedi. It was not easy for me to defeat him. But power was not what he lacked. He simply lacked the will to use it.” 

Leia smiled. “He didn’t use the Dark Side.” 

Her throat closed. Leia gasped for air, clutching at her throat. Her father walked over, fist clenched, and bent down. “ _ This  _ is what he lacked.” Leia flew into the air, yanked upward like a puppet on invisible strings. “The Jedi refused to access their emotions, so convinced that the Light was the only way. They could not find the ambition to use the Dark Side.” Spots danced in her vision. “That is what you must do, my daughter.” 

Leia fell to the floor, nearly heaving. Air poured into her body like a tidal wave. The Emperor moved to leave the room, but faced Leia at the door. “And Leia,” he said, “do not interrupt me next time.” 

  
  


“So,” Anakin clapped his hands together. “What do you do for fun?” 

“Fun?” They were back into his cell, in the room adjacent to his bedroom. 

There was only a chair and an aging holoprojector in his room, giving him and Skywalker plenty of space. “What are you talking about?” 

His father paused. “Luke, you know what fun is, right?” 

“A waste of time.” 

Anakin sighed. He expected to be reprimanded for the comment. Instead, his father left the room. Had his comment gone too far? Had Skywalker given up on him? But a few minutes later, his father returned with a black box and the remains of what must have been a protocol droid. Skywalker placed the box at his feet and sat down beside the droid. 

“You want me to fix it?” 

“Solo told me you fixed a lot of machines,” Anakin said quietly. “I thought you might-” 

“It’s fine.” He reached into the box, and found the standard screwdrivers and wrenches and wires. “This one isn’t going to be as annoying as C-3PO.” 

Thankfully, the joke landed, and his father laughed. The sound echoed through his ears. Palpatine’s laughter was always accompanied by bursts of lightning. Skywalker’s laughter was accompanied with a smile. It wasn’t going to be easy to turn Skywalker back into a Sith. 

“Threepio’s alright,” his father said. “Of course, Artoo’s my favorite.” 

More silence. He tried to calculate his next move- induce more pity in Skywalker, or try to get close to him?- but his mind blanked. All he saw were the wires in front of him and how he needed to connect them. He’d done this many times before, when the Emperor had no missions for him and he had a little free time. He’d bark at Han to hand him tools and he’d just  _ work _ , not because he had to, but because he wanted to. 

“Luke.” His father put a wrench down. “Captain Solo wants to talk to you.” 

“No.” 

“Luke, please.” 

“Father,” he took in a deep breath. “Solo betrayed me.” 

“You need friends, Luke. I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“Solo,” he said through gritted teeth, “is  _ not  _ my friend.” Han may have ruffled his hair and called him “Kid” and bought him ice cream on Empire Day, but that did not mean they were friends. Those were simply tactics Solo used to get his guard down. 

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “On Bespin, you called him Han.” 

He dropped the screwdriver. “I don’t want to talk about Bespin.” Bespin was his failure. He’d barely been able to put up a fight against the famed Jedi, and instead of being killed, he was captured and paraded around like a feral pet. 

“Luke,” Anakin reached for his hand. He backed away from his father, just like he’d done on Bespin. “You are not an animal. You are my son. I love-” 

“Shut up!” 

He lunged toward Skywalker, leaping over the droid parts. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. Strangle his father? Rip his throat out? Maybe both. But Skywalker reached out his hand, and he froze in the air. 

Anakin looked right into his eyes. “You are my son. You are not anything Palpatine said you are.” 

“Put me down.” 

“Do you understand me, Luke?” His father grasped his chin. “I love you. I want you to be happy. Stop fighting me at every turn when I want to help you!” 

“Put me down, Father.” 

He fell right into his father’s arms. 

“General Skywalker.” One of the guards had opened the door. “Is the prisoner alright?” 

“I-” 

His father stepped away. “Yes, he’s fine. I think he just wants to be alone now.” 

Anakin Skywalker bolted from the room, like he was a bantha instead of Skywalker’s son. 

He wanted to hit himself for his stupidity. He’d let his emotions take control, and he’d attacked Skywalker instead of trying to manipulate him. But he’d also sensed anger when Skywalker used the Force, and in that anger were traces of the Dark Side. 

It seemed like his father was more of a Sith than he thought. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  



End file.
